TARZAN, THE APE MAN: Blu-ray (MGM, 1932) Warner Archive
Today, Johnny Weissmuller’s robust
physique and half yodel/half shriek as the undisputed king of the jungle seem a
gross cliché. But in 1932, the year MGM debuted its’ first celluloid
incarnation of Edgar Rice Boroughs’ primitive fantasy he-man in Tarzan, the
Ape Man, the concept was not only fresh and vital, it also carried more
than a hint of eroticism that had the Catholic League of Decency breaking a
celibate sweat, and, German Chancellor Adolph Hitler banning ye ole buff of
the loin cloth from his country’s movie screens. There is little to refute
the concept of a non-verbal hulk, bulging with muscles, but curiously to sport
a clean-shaven chiseled jaw and pecs has long-since stuck in the universal
psyche as the idealized essence of raw masculinity. Virtually every man of the
latter 20th century has gone through his own ‘Tarzan’ phase, hoping
to emulate, to varying degrees, the smolder of this physical attraction to and
for the opposite sex. Tarzan’s mate was Jane, better known to cinema-goers of
the day as Metro contractee, Maureen Sullivan.
Upon the picture’s release, Sullivan was quietly offered land and money
if she would stop ‘disgracing’ herself on the screen – predicated on a single
sequence in the film, in which Tarzan, to oblige Jane’s verve for a swim,
tosses her into the lake without her clothes on, thereby leading to a few
obligatory underwater shots of Sullivan’s double, swimming naked past the
camera. This moment was left in the picture in 1932, but later excised to
satisfy Hollywood’s self-governing code of ethics.
Tarzan, The Ape
Man was such a colossus at the box office, earning a cool $2.8 million on
its paltry $628,000 outlay, it quickly spawned a series at MGM, a studio not
known for its franchise film-making. As
the thirties progressed, other franchises would follow it: The Thin Man
(1934-47) Dr. Kildare (1937-47), and, Andy Hardy (1939-58). Aside: Dr. Kildare morphed into the Dr.
Gillespie franchise after 10 installments, before petering out into a sort
of non-descript ‘hospital drama.’ But I digress. All six of the original MGM Tarzan movies
featuring Johnny Weissmuller offer subtle variations on Boroughs’ intriguing
novel about a human male baby raised by animals in the deep darkest jungles of
Africa after his parents have been killed. Inevitably, the babe blossoms into
manhood. But the man is void of all human understanding. Rather, he is a
primate with muscles and a loin cloth to conceal…well…you know. Though why a
human raised by animals would desire such a fashion accoutrement remained more
a case of Boroughs’ own manufactured false modesty than Tarzan’s crude
necessity. Of course, Boroughs could not leave well enough alone. And thus,
Tarzan stumbles across the shapely Jane – daughter of a big game hunter who has
become lost in the jungle. And although never having seen a woman before, it isn’t
long before the he-hunk is moved with a visceral - yet strangely innocent -
sexual appetite to possess her, aroused by his inbred male curiosity.
The narrative structure of the
first three films in MGM’s Tarzan franchise explore the premise of 'love
with a stranger' in various, occasionally even ‘stranger’ directions. Jane is,
at first, understandably fearful of this half-naked brute who ambushes her in
the woods. Quickly, fear turns to lust, though, as yet, still of the guiltless and
explorative good nature to keep the fraught sexual tension decidedly above
board and above the waistline. For clarity’s sake, the oft quoted line, “Me,
Tarzan, you Jane” is never actually uttered in Cyril Hume’s screenplay. Instead,
it stems from Tarzan and Jane’s cute meet in which Jane, having superficially
taught her guy the art of rudimentary conversation, quickly grows tired of
being poked in the shoulder by Tarzan as he learns to identify her by her first
name. As plots go, James Parker (C. Aubrey Smith) and his partner, Harry Holt
(Neil Hamilton) have gone to Africa to unearth a legendary elephant burial
ground for its ivory. Holt has the hots
for Jane, who arrives unexpectedly at their encampment, determined to tag along
for the expedition. Fate intervenes.
During a vicious attack by hippopotami and crocodiles, a shadowy, muscular
figure appears, rescuing Jane from certain death, carrying her off into the
jungle.
Jane’s fear melts away when she
realizes the jungle swinger known as Tarzan means no harm. Indeed, Jane is
attracted almost immediately. Thus, upon being restored to her father, she
desperately seeks his counsel to have Tarzan return with them to London.
Tarzan, however, has other ideas and bolts back to his native habitat. But Jane is not heartsore for long. Again,
the expedition is ambushed, this time, by a tribe of hostile pygmies (all male).
Precisely how these little fellows were able to populate to such an extent
without female companionship is an oddity never addressed in the movie. The
actors portraying them were, in fact, all white men donning blackface. A sign
of the times and decisions made in casting. Deal with it. Jane, having
previously befriended Tarzan's chimpanzee, Cheeta (Jiggs), now implores the
primate to seek his master to aid in their rescue. This, the noble Tarzan does,
charging the tribal village on the back on an elephant. Tragically, James
Parker is fatally wounded and dies before reaching the elephant graveyard.
Afterward, Jane realizes her place is with Tarzan. As Holt and the expedition
pull away from the coast, Jane and Tarzan wave goodbye from a clifftop, with
Jane clutching Cheeta in her arms as a surrogate infant.
The finale to Tarzan, The Ape
Man was cause for some consternation in America as it implies Jane has
become Tarzan’s sexual partner. Alas, since the jungle king knows nothing of
the concept of love through marriage, and no preacher is present to legally
sanction the union, the inference, Jane will remain in the jungle as a sexual
wanton, willingly ravaged by her chosen lover, created sparks of dissention
with moral Christian groups and the Catholic League of Decency. This, frankly,
mattered not to MGM’s raja, L.B. Mayer, who countered the notion of a screen
sex scandal against the formidable box office take. Clearly, most who saw it
were neither scandalized nor insulted, but rather enamored by the concept of a
sophisticated female finding primal amour in the arms of a muscled-up stud. Besides,
Mayer had a new star in Johnny Weissmuller. The search for the right Tarzan had
been a little daunting as Hollywood hunks of this particular vintage were not
known for their taut physicality, but rather, an air of masculine charisma.
Tarzan, however, needed to be physically robust as his only costume is a strip
of cloth guarding against a certain anatomical tidbit catching cold. Mayer was
to discover his Tarzan in a decorated Olympian pro-swimmer with 5 gold medals, 67
world and 52 national titles to his credit. All this was undeniably good for
publicity. Weissmuller, however, had already capitalized on this fame by become
an underwear model. Thus, Mayer had to buy out this contract before he could put
Weissmuller under one of his own.
Virtually all of Tarzan, The Ape
Man was shot on MGM’s famed backlot - Lot One to be exact. For a more
tropical flavor, L.A.’s Lake Sherwood and Florida’s Silver Springs subbed in.
To keep costs down, director, W.S. Van Dyke suggested a pilfering of stock
footage from his earlier epic, Trader Horn (1931) – a picture actually
shot on location in Africa. Arguably, without the public’s fascination for that
movie, MGM would never have undertaken to bring Tarzan, The Ape Man to
the silver screen. Wildlife was brought in, on loan, from nearby Goebel's Lion
Farm. As the elephants used in the picture were Indian, not African, fake ears
and tusks had to be affixed to mimic the real deal. Precisely how these patient
pachyderms were able to endure such indignation and perform stunts in tandem
has never been addressed in MGM’s ledgers. But after the picture’s success, MGM
would begin establishing its own homegrown animal menagerie on the backlot for
subsequent installments to this franchise.
Interesting to reconsider the
legacy of Tarzan, The Ape Man – most directly, in the franchise it
spawned at MGM and, especially, in the shadow of Hollywood’s puritanical purge of
‘deliberate’ sex on the screen after 1933 under its self-governing body of
censorship. Subsequent movies in the Tarzan franchise continued on the
trajectory Jane’s initial infatuation with ‘nature boy’ had shifted, then
blossomed into romantic love – made even more problematic for the censors when
‘boy’ (Tarzan and Jane’s love child) suddenly appeared in Tarzan Finds A Son
(1939). Precisely, where he ‘found’ him remained quietly open for discussion. After
MGM retired this series in 1942, with Tarzan leaving the jungle for his New
York adventure – an idiotic hiccup in the formula, diminishing his impact as a
grotesque figure of fun in a movie devolved into pure camp – Weissmuller’s
contract at MGM elapsed and he made the move to RKO, continuing to play the vine-swinging
sexpot in six more movies, curiously void of Jane or boy’s influences.
Thereafter, various actors picked up Tarzan’s leather jock. But the character
was, by now, a C-grade cliché in B-budgeted and B-grade adventure movies, made
quick n’ dirty, increasingly to merely capitalize solely on seeing a buff bod
almost entirely void of clothes, committed to daring do in a jungle setting.
Viewed today, Tarzan, The Ape
Man is a sweetly mannerly love story with a twist. Johnny Weissmuller and
Maureen Sullivan involve us in a simple, subtle and understated romance between
two people from decidedly disparate backgrounds who somehow discover common
ground when removed from their inhibitions. He offers her manly sex appeal and
she provides him with burgeoning social graces. In the wake of this exchange of
ideals, Tarzan and Jane discover a smoldering, sensual chemistry neither can
resist. There is just something about the Weissmuller/Sullivan affair du coeur
that pretenders to their treetop have long-since been unable to duplicate. Clyde
De Vinna’s cinematography captures the heat and humidity of a remote locale, a
perfect backdrop for erotic passions to flair and thrive. De Vinna, who began
his career in 1916, later to become a veteran of 120 film and television
projects, spanning the years until 1953, actually photographed The Raiders,
the very first film to debut under the newly amalgamated Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
banner. After his work on Trader Horn, De Vinna was Metro’s man in
search of parts of the world virtually unseen on celluloid. Tarzan, The Ape
Man does not stretch De Vinna’s capacity for globe-trotting. But he makes
effectual use of the rubber trees, fake gators and other sundry props assembled
by MGM to recreate a convincing enough African safari on the backlot.
Tarzan, The Ape
Man arrives from the Warner Archive (WAC) in a transfer that, like The
Great Ziegfeld, has been culled from the best ‘surviving’ elements. The
results are not altogether satisfying, but are a considerable uptick from the
careworn DVD released by Warner Home Video back in 2005. The upgrade is most noticeable in overall
image clarity and crispness. De Vinna used diffusion filters throughout to add
an air of exotic mystery, also, and quite likely, to camouflage the
shortcomings of MGM’s façade and compliment it with a whiff of authenticity. Contrast
on the Blu-ray still looks a tad anemic. Some scenes appear darker than
anticipated. Film grain has also been oddly homogenized. I hesitate to say, ‘scrubbed’
as I suspect whatever elements were being used in this remastering effort was
also at the mercy of being several generations removed from an original camera
negative. Regardless, grain does not look anywhere close to indigenous for nitrate
film stocks from 1931/32. The 2.0 DTS audio has eradicated the hiss and pop
from the older DVD release. It sounds solid, if unremarkable. Extras include
the comprehensive hour-long documentary – also, a part of the 2005 DVD box set,
with expert commentary from historians and archival interviews. Good stuff, alas, in 720i and often looking
it too. Still, worth a watch. There are also a handful of short subjects and a
theatrical trailer. Bottom line: without an original camera negative, it is
highly unlikely Tarzan, The Ape Man will ever look better than this in
hi-def. WAC has done its due diligence. But the results are not pristine. Judge
and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 - 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
2
Comments